


Strike The Match

by Anonymous



Category: The War Of The Worlds (UK TV 2019)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Erections, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Arnold has been captured by the aliens, but what do they want from him?
Relationships: Arnold Henderson/Aliens
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	Strike The Match

Arnold doesn’t know how long he’s been here. 

For some reason he was one of the lucky ones. He was spared, but now he’s not so sure if he is so lucky after all.

Here, he is captive. Nights and days blend together and he doesn’t know where he is. The room he was thrown into is nothing. As if his mind can’t understand what it sees. There are no entrances or exits, no one else with him. 

That is, he knows there’s no other humans with him. 

The presence he feels, the sensation of being watched is on him constantly. He’s yelled out, tried to find out what’s keeping him here, only to be met with silence. 

Whatever has him captive provides him with sustenance, basic human needs, but not the ones he so longs for. He misses his family, misses his friends. Hell, he even misses the newspaper with their long drawn out hours, tedious interviews, ungodly deadlines. 

He’d take a hundred years of that instead of this unknown. 

There is nothing to distract his mind and he finds himself staring at blank space hour after hour. When a warm sensation starts to drag at the back of his mind, Arnold welcomes it. Whatever it is can’t be any worse than the state he’s in now. 

_We have been watching you._

Words enter his mind, he can see them clearly, but he can’t hear anything. 

_We haven’t meant to keep you uninformed for so long. We had to learn how to communicate with you first._

“Who are you?” Arnold speaks into the emptiness. “What are you doing with me?”

_Observation. You are different. A species we haven’t come across before._

“I don’t...I don’t understand,” Arnold shakes his head. 

When the first foreign object had fallen near his city, everyone knew it was not of Earth. However, comprehending what is reaching out to him now is beyond Arnold. Life among the stars isn’t supposed to be like this. 

_Our first observers were rash. We did not mean to attack._

“You’ve killed innocent people,” Arnold spats at the excuses. “And now you’re holding me captive.”

_You will be released._

Arnold doesn’t believe it, the words sounding too good to be true. “How can I trust you?”

Against his better judgement, Arnold mulls around making a deal with his captors. If it means his return home, then he can only hope they don’t ask too much of him. 

_What would make you trust us?_

Arnold purses his lips, his fingers playing around with the buttons on his vest. He supposes the truth would be nice. Every little detail of what they plan to do with him. He tells the empty space as such and is met with silence. 

_We wish to see your form. Without these outer layers._

Blushing a little at this, Arnold tucks his arms close to himself. From there things can only go downwards and he waits for the presence to continue.

_Your basic functions, we have learned from watching you, but there are others. Feelings your kind has that ours does not grasp._

Arnold’s clothes feel tighter by the second and he shifts on his feet. “If I tell you to stop, will you?”

_We will not push your boundaries. We are working on a process to meld with your mind, but for now, physical observations must be used._

“Physical,” Arnold mutters to himself as he glances down at his feet. 

As if on cue, tendrils appear all around him and Arnold swallows. The tendrils appear to have a life of their own as they mimic the tilt of a head, the hesitation of a wild animal. 

Steeling himself, Arnold remembers his potential freedom and slowly works at the buttons on his vest. His tie follows shortly after and he can’t help but be amused when the tendrils hold onto his clothing as if mocking coat racks. 

The rest of his layers do not shed so easily. Arnold hesitates more than once. The tendrils back off when he does so and it’s a small comfort amongst the confusion swarming in his mind. Once he is in his underclothes, Arnold pauses. 

_Yes. Those too. Unless you wish to stop for now._

Arnold’s first reaction is to say no. This comes from nowhere and he freezes up. Surely, he can’t be comfortable after a few reassurances that could be nothing but lies. Then again, he doesn’t have much else to fall back on and he takes a breath before removing the last of his clothing. 

A few tendrils dance along his skin, causing Arnold to jump. He apologizes, though he’s not sure why and the tendrils back off, waiting mid-suspension. Once Arnold nods, the tendrils are back, the tips gentle as they prod and explore. 

One snakes around his neck, but it doesn’t tighten. It moves with his swallows, pokes at the pulse points, before coiling around once more. Before Arnold realizes it, his arms and legs are wrapped in tendrils, smooth and warm, almost caressing. 

Almost. 

A tendril flicks at his nipple and Arnold makes a noise of surprise. The tendril is taken aback as well before it moves back in, rubbing against the nub until it stiffens. Arnold bites down on his lip, not entirely disliking the sensation. He’s never felt such a shock run up his spine and he finds his mouth dropping open as two tendrils rub his nipples. 

Heat coils in his stomach and Arnold tries to fight it, but his member is already half-hard. 

_Are you uncomfortable? Do you wish for us to stop?_

Arnold shakes his head. A curiosity has grown in his mind and he doesn’t want this to end so soon. He’s confused, but at the same time, he wants to dive in head-first, to see where this goes. 

With that, a tendril on his thigh wiggles up and wraps itself around Arnold’s length, slowly dragging itself up to the tip. Arnold lets out a stuttered gasp, his head falling forward as his cock becomes hard. His arms are lifted by the tendrils wrapped around them while his legs are spread by the others. 

The pressure on his cock grows and Arnold is weakly thrusting into the tendril that pumps him. It secretes a clear liquid, warm and thick, making it easier to glide up his length. It feels good. The tendril picks up on his gasps and moves faster, causing Arnold to let out a wanton moan. 

He’s never felt pleasure as intense as this and his eyes start to roll back as the tendril continues its ministrations. Arnold comes with a shout, his strength relying on the tendrils holding him up. His body is on fire, but the release was so good and Arnold starts to relax in the hold. The tendril on his cock remains, but then a new tendril trails across his backside and down towards his entrance. 

Arnold jerks away then and the tendril stops. He can still feel it, just at the nape of his back, and he thinks for just a moment. He knows the tendrils will go away if he asks, he can feel there is no intention to hurt him. 

“Keep...keep going,” Arnold manages, his body tensing as the tendril resumes its searching. 

The pressure at his hole is not as painful as he expects. In fact, the liquid that secretes from the tendrils makes the push almost pleasant. He is stretched slowly, the tendril waiting for his consent before going further. The fullness begins to take over all of Arnold’s senses and then, the tendril curls inside of him. 

The spot it presses against sends Arnold into another state of mind. He cries out in ecstasy, his back arching as a wave of pleasure washes over him. The tendril pulls out just a little before it slams back and Arnold is lost in his moans. He is aching for release again, for the pleasure to last forever. 

The tendril on his cock picks up its pumping again, moving in tandem with the one shoving into him. The differing sensations of pleasure sends Arnold reeling and he gasps as the tendrils all around his body start to move. Sensitive spots are lit aflame with every flick and rub, the tendrils near his mouth earning a few licks and sucks. 

Soon, Arnold cannot hold back any longer and his release shakes him to his core. He spills onto himself and some of the tendrils, his body writhing from the overstimulation. He feels so good, spent, and fucked.

He is weak when the tendrils begin to pull back, setting him gently on the ground. When the last of them is gone, a pool of water appears and Arnold finds himself sliding into it. The water is warm, the edges around him comparable to a tub he would find back home. He settles into it just as an offering of water from a small tube appears next to him. 

_Pleasure and reproduction are often hand in hand it seems._

Arnold never thought about it that way, but he supposes so and gives a half-hearted shrug. 

_If not for reproduction, would you simply engage in physical activities for pleasure?_

“Many do,” Arnold speaks, his voice raw, and he clears his throat. 

_Your kind finds enjoyment in strange things. What else is there?_

Arnold laughs a little. There’s a long list and he’s not sure where to start. There’s also the other matter at hand, the one about his freedom. 

_You may leave at any time. We have received plenty of information from you. However, there is still more we wish to know._

“Meaning?” Arnold already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it. 

_If you are willing to stay for more experiments, we will reward you greatly._

All it would take is a few words. A few words and Arnold would wake up and pretend this had all been a dream. He drags his hand through the water, his mind pulling him towards one thought alone. 

He grins. Unending pleasure is hard to refuse.

**Author's Note:**

> I am open to taking prompts for Arnold/Aliens!! 
> 
> Feel free to comment if there is something you would like to see!!


End file.
